


TWENTY SECONDS OF STUPID BRAVERY

by jean_huh_kirschnickerdoodle



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Canon Expansion, First Kiss, M/M, everyone and their mom has probably written thjs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-03 23:34:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12157065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jean_huh_kirschnickerdoodle/pseuds/jean_huh_kirschnickerdoodle
Summary: Ronan had thought about this moment more than he'd accept, thought about it daily. It was a stupid risk that seemed more dangerous than every nightmare he'd brought to life. All it would take was twenty seconds of stupid bravery..





	TWENTY SECONDS OF STUPID BRAVERY

Ronan sat on his bed beside Adam, holding the dream car in his hand. The mattress sank slightly beneath him, familiar in the way it was his but foreign in the way that it’d never been himself and Adam. The thought jolted the barest of a spark through his chest.

His thumb turned the wheels, one by one. Each a different tune, a new melody. He knew them all. He’d created them all. Dreamt them. How long ago had he dreamt them, dreamt this car? He’d been a child, eyes wide and excited by Niall’s creations and Niall’s cars. They were often one in the same.

He wasn’t here for the car.

He was only half here for this ‘celebration.’

Ronan knew Adam was watching him. Felt his eyes boring into him, studying him as Adam did. Picking him apart. Trying to know him.

_ Unknowable. _

Maybe he was. Maybe they were. Maybe Ronan didn’t give two fucks.

He wanted to be known.

And he wanted to be known by Adam Parrish.

Ronan set the dream car down, ignored the way it almost played music against the sheets, the wheel not quite turning enough. And he acted. He’d done what he’d thought about doing so many times before.

When Adam had made the deal with Cabeswater. When Adam lay in the dirt with a bleeding ear. When Adam looked at Blue the way he did, held her hand like she was something special. When Adam had seen the dream word in the barns. When Adam had scryed in the car beside him. When Adam had figured out the truth about Cabeswater, the clever shit that he was.

Ronan kissed him.

It took everything he had, all the bravery he hid inside him and all the apathy he hid behind. He pretended it was easy, pretended it was simple, pretended it was nothing new.

He kissed Adam.

Their lips pushed together, clumsy and quick and unplanned. For the instigator, Ronan was incredibly unprepared.

Adam’s lips were just a little rough, like he chewed them when he tried to solve the mysteries of Cabeswater. But they were warm. And good. And everything Ronan could imagine Adam’s lips would feel like against his own.

The kiss broke but Ronan couldn’t pull back. His fingers twisted into the sheets below them and he pressed another kiss against Adam’s lips. Adam kissed back.  _ Adam kissed back _ . It was softer this time, a brushing kiss that lingered, lips gentle as they squished together into a new, singular flesh.

“I’m gonna go downstairs.” Ronan was standing by the door. When had he moved to the door? He hadn’t realized it, too lost in the hope that Adam would say something, anything. Not anything, nothing was ever that simple with Ronan. But he didn’t know what he wanted—needed—Adam to say, either.

Adam said nothing.

Adam was a man of actions, these days.

Rough fingers–nails stained with oil and earth–grabbed his wrist, pressed the leather bands roughened by teeth into Ronan’s skin. Their lips crashed together again and sucked the breath out of Ronan, liquid gold pooling through him and dripping down his throat.

Ronan couldn’t stop if he tried.

He didn’t try.

Long fingers, slender and deft as the dreams he pulled from his mind, whispered against Adam’s skin. It was different than what he’d expected. Different than what his body craved. His body was charged and racing and no amount of fast cars and mystery dream pills could compare to the electricity that tingled his lips and creeped into his body.

Adam was kissing him like he needed him.

And Ronan was kissing back because  _ he _ needed him.

His hands found their place against Adam’s neck, against his jaw. A heavy pulse thudded against his palm and his thumb swept curiously, cautiously, caressing over the curve of his jaw. They stayed there, anchored, keeping Adam close into this kiss.

He didn’t want it to end.

He wanted more.

He wanted Adam.

Fuck, did he want Adam. How long had he wanted Adam? Always, probably.

The sounds from downstairs drowned out as strong hands, hands used to repair leylines and repair cars, gripped into his shirt, fisting at his sides. They seemed to tremble, but kept him close, pulled him closer. Ronan could feel the way their bodies almost touched, electricity charged between them. Surely it would be visible to anyone who saw, sparks of lightning a better representation than Tesla could ever have hoped for.

Lips parted willingly, beggingly, desperately. They pushed, wanting more of each other. Adam’s breath was hot against Ronan’s lips, and he shivered when he felt a tongue that wasn’t his own brush against his lips.

Realization dawned on him.

Adam wanted him as much as he wanted Adam.

Clever, smart, stubborn, beautiful Adam wanted him.

Ronan easily opened his mouth, allowing Adam’s tongue to press against his. Warm and wet and Ronan was pretty sure he was short circuiting. He could dream entire magicscapes, he could dream two headed nightmares that were no more nightmare than a pitbull, he could dream ravens and brothers and ever-changing tattoos.

But a kiss—a kiss that continued to deepen, he noted—from Adam? His brain couldn’t handle that.

It was more than he’d ever imagined; he’d imagined it more than he’d ever admit.

His heart was rapid in his chest, thudding and fluttering and out of control like a god damn hummingbird hopped up on one of Kavinsky’s dream drugs.

Heat sank into him and he wanted to be closer, wanted more, a flittering thought of taking Adam here and now—or being taken; Ronan wasn’t particular, not when it came to Adam—flashed through his mind and he forced it down.

He didn’t need that. He needed this.

This here and this now.

This soft, growing warmth of hands spreading against his sides, heat from nervous palms seeping through the cotton. The pulse against his fingers that was as erratic and spun out as his own. The lips that worked and brushed against his, each time coming back for more.

And they did come back for more. Again and again and again. Brave, stupid Ronan broke the kiss, only to find Adam push into it again. Each time, he kissed him again. Each time Ronan couldn’t help himself. He needed the reassurance. And he gave it as much as he took it.

He smiled, a real genuine smile that he rarely showed anyone but Adam and Matthew, and each smile was chased with a kiss. Some short and fleeting. Some soft brushes, barely kisses at all. Some deep and needy, all sloppy lips and seeking tongues.

There was a thud and ensuing laughter from downstairs. The party. Ah. Right. It was still a thing that was happening, and surely someone would notice they were missing. A thrill sparked through him at the thought of someone—of Declan, of Gansey—finding them kissing, in each other’s arms like this.

But Ronan knew it wasn’t what Adam would want, wasn’t how he wanted this to be.

It would have tainted it all. The dream car. The dream room. The dream kiss that wasn’t a dream at all.

Their breaths mingled, hot and coming out in puffed breaths between them as heavy lids were forced up by hazy lashes. Noses bumped, not quite ready to part even enough to really look at each other. Ronan brushed their lips again, Adam eagerly closed his over Ronan’s top lip.

This time Ronan really did look at him, studying his eyes carefully, finding him wanting in the best way and finding himself so incredibly satisfied by the fact that the same warm, blurry feeling that fogged his mind seemed to fog Adam’s. Ronan brushed his thumb against Adam’s jaw again, resisting the urge to drop his hands.

“I’m gonna go downstairs,” He said again. And this time he did, reluctantly, and didn’t look back to see if Adam watched him go.


End file.
